


shane wears the skirt in this relationship

by ficfucker



Series: shane wearing skirts [3]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, Fishnets, Forced Feminization, Frottage, Frotting, M/M, and ryan is desperate ;), boys in crop tops, shane in a skirt is back baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: only shane could make fishnet wedgies sexyi mean, he is mostly leg





	shane wears the skirt in this relationship

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ parttime-ghosthunter

“I’ve picked out a fishnet wedgie like six times already,” Shane complains.

Ryan buries his face in his hands and groans quietly to himself, hoping Shane can’t hear him from the bathroom. “That was so-so unsexy…”

“You try shimmying into fishnets when you’re 90% leg and these things love getting stuck between ass cheeks…!”

Ryan giggles in response.

In the bathroom, Shane has been trying to figure out if he likes how he looks with the outfit he snagged last time he went shopping alone (a surprise for Ryan); a short black skirt, a white crop top with a big cherry in the center, and a black lace bra. The fishnets are leftover from his last Rocky Horror showing, deciding to have fun and dress in the appropriate drag.

The bra makes his chest look padded, as if something could be there, but the illusion falls short in first person, his shoulder straps slipping down, his chest not properly cupped due to a lack of breasts. And the fishnets only make him look lankier, all elbows and knees, too tall, too skinny.

Shane does not fill out to be shapely, and in some sensitive, soft way, it hurts a small part of him he was not aware could be hurt like this.

Shane swallows this down, not allowing himself to be self conscious, knowing full well that when he walks out to their bedroom, Ryan is going to be aroused and excited and completely desperate, all because of him.

For Shane, that is enough.

“Ready or not, here I… _come_!” Shane says in a silly voice.

He opens the door and sets his left foot out first, wiggling his hips like a first-time pole dancer, and flashes Ryan a big, goofy smile. “Hey, pretty boy,” Shane teases, puckering his lips into a kiss.

Ryan blinks. He blinks again. And then he covers his face and mutters, “I think I just came a little…”

Shane blushes the smallest amount and laughs, a relieved laugh, and takes his chance to cross the room while Ryan still has his head down, closing the space between them, and sitting on the bed next to his overly-horny boyfriend.

“Is this foolish?” Ryan asks, peeking out from behind his fingers.

Shane can practically feel the heat radiating off him. “Well, uh, yeah it is. Everything we do is kind of stupid and foolish. But at least we’re being foolish in good company, right?”

Ryan makes a small, confirmative noise. “What a time to give me a fatherly peptalk, oh my god,” Ryan breathes out in a giggly way.

“What am I supposed to say? You look like you’re about to blow a gasket. Or like, bust a nut.”

“Oh my god, shut up, Shane.”

A pregnant pause.

“Shut me up then,” Shane dares, his tone as smug as ever, hoping this jack-assery of his will ease some of the tension between them.

And it does.

Ryan looks up at his stupidly hot boyfriend, his eyebrows cinched together in that “I’m annoyed with you but not in a serious way” fashion, and presses his mouth to Shane’s.

It’s clumsier than the usual kiss.

Ryan is nervous and turned on, like he always is when Shane is in a skirt.

This is only their third time, but Shane is picking up on the cues, the mannerisms that Ryan adapts whenever he’s _this_ turned on.

Ryan exhales a small, whimpering moan when Shane pulls away and Shane smiles at him, their faces still close, nearly touching. “Like the outfit?” he asks in a hushed tone.

Ryan nods frantically, his pupils wide, deep wells of dark lust.

Shane kisses him, parting his boyfriend’s lips with his tongue, Ryan’s teeth grazing him a little, forcing shivers down his spine, down to his exposed thighs. His hands are on Ryan’s shoulders and he’s not sure how to move things forward, not when Ryan is acting like a blow up doll, too entranced to even know his own name.

He’ll have to be Mr. Shane “In Charge” Madej, which is a role he’s assumed before.

Pulling back, his mouth taking spot on Ryan’s jawline, kissing and nipping the soft skin there, Shane murmurs, “On your knees for me?”

Ryan obeys.

Of course he does.

Shane could ask Ryan to murder a coworker and if Shane was in a skirt, Ryan wouldn’t hesitate. No questions asked.

(Maybe a few questions. Like “who?” and “where should I toss the remains?”)

It makes Shane feel… powerful.

And, of course, loved.

“I’m ruining these fishnets,” Shane laughs. He hikes up his skirt to reveal his erection, straining against the waistband of the fishnets, a trail of precum leaking from the tip.

As far as Shane knows, neither of them have seen a boner pressed against fishnets before. It’s kind of hot, if he admits, his cock encased in a soft, black mesh.

He can only imagine how Ryan feels about the sight.

Ryan eases up on his toes and, his face flushed bright red, presses a small kiss to Shane’s shaft, a more daring move than Shane was expecting, and his response is a weird, choked noise.

“Eager?” Shane teases, hoping to keep Ryan from commenting on the sound that just squeaked out of him.

Ryan doesn’t answer. His fingers are curling on the waistband of Shane’s fishnets and tugging them down just enough so his cock is exposed and licks tenatively at the pearls of precum forming at his slit.

Something stirs in Shane.

It makes Shane feel oddly… feminine (female?), the fact that Ryan didn’t take his fishnets all the way off. It feels like he’s wearing panties and Ryan has simply pushed them aside, as if to keep Shane like… _this_ for as long as possible.

Between these racing thoughts, the thudding feeling in his chest, and Ryan’s mouth working lazily over the head of his cock, Shane is already an unhinged mess.

He’s unsure what to do next, so he naturally sets his hands atop Ryan’s head and threads his fingers into Ryan’s dark tendrils of hair, huffing out tiny moans.

“Good b-boy, Ryan,” Shane breathes out. He can feel Ryan melt under his touch from his words, his mouth and throat and shoulders all relaxing like a string going from taut to loose.

“Like being called a good boy?” Shane continues. He releases his grip on Ryan’s hair and runs his fingers through instead, figuring the praise and the action matched better than the aggressive hold he had had on him.

Ryan hums and Shane notices his eyes are open, glancing up at him, and his stomach twists with a sharp jump of arousal. Ryan’s eyes are large and pleading, two perfect marbles of near-black brown fixated on Shane, little sparkles of tears pooling as he gags.

“F-Fuck, Ryan,” Shane sputters. “Treat me like a king like t-this. Should wear fishnets- _oh f-fuck_ \- more often, huh?”

Ryan gets most of Shane’s cock down his throat, gags hard and makes a wet, retching sound, and Shane, tightening the grip he has on his boyfriend’s hair, carefully pulls him off his cock. Little strings of drool connect Shane’s cock to Ryan’s lips, thin and shiny like newly formed spider silk covered in dew, and if he had his phone on him, Shane would take a picture.

His boyfriend, already looking disheveled, panting with his tongue lolling out, is more than picture worthy.

Shane would commission a traditional oil painter to etch it out on canvas.

“Let me take care of you, love,” Shane says in a soft, nearly parental voice. He runs his fingers through Ryan’s hair again and lets his touch dip down to his cheek, grazes the side of his face until his thumb is pressed to Ryan’s lip.

“Open.”

Ryan’s lips part just enough to allow Shane’s thumb into his mouth, the pad of his thumb brushing his soft tongue, Ryan’s front teeth touching Shane’s nail with the smallest amount of pressure. It makes Shane shiver, Ryan’s tongue flickering and slightly swiping his thumb.

Shane retracts his thumb and gestures for Ryan to stand, his expression sly and darkly erotic, but yet, maintaining a goofy smile, unserious, clearly admiring how desperate his boyfriend is.

“Undress,” he says and his gaze on Ryan never wavers.

A prominent lump in his throat, Ryan’s adam’s apple bobs up and down like a buoy in the ocean as he swallows, reaching to the hem of his cream-colored sweater. He peels it away to reveal his toned torso, his stomach muscles tensing as he stretches his arms over his head, Shane watching the way they relax when Ryan’s hands go down to his jeans.

Ryan hesitates, and shyly, looks at Shane who nods and smiles to encourage him.

Inhaling, Ryan pulls off his pants, hooking his fingers just so as to get his boxers to come off with him, letting his clothes spool to the floor in a puddle by his ankles. His cock strains upward toward his navel, oozing precum that trails down the shaft in thin, wet lines.

Shane pats his lap, licking his lips without thought, and softly says, “Cmere…”

Ryan listens and tries his best to straddle Shane, his knees on either side of his slender hips, taking note not to pin his skirt to the bed, his face fully flushed, their cocks merely inches apart.

The kiss they share is dire and deep, like two planets colliding , and Shane keeps edging into it, like he’s trying to get as close to Ryan as he can get, pushing, pushing. His heart is thrumming in his chest like a thick bassline and when Ryan releases the smallest moan, the pace quickens.

Shane breaks their kiss and finds Ryan’s left hand, holds him by the wrist, guiding his palm

to his chest to touch at the padded bra there, a little embarrassed, a little too turned on to really feel self conscious.

Ryan flexes his fingers around the material.

“Maybe… I’ll get a sports bra and wear it around the office.”

Ryan’s eyes shoot up to Shane’s and his grip on Shane’s chest tightens a little. “You wouldn’t,” he squeaks.

“Mhm. I would. No one would have to know. Like, uh, wear a hoodie overtop. Tell you when I’m wearing.”

Shane can feel Ryan’s thighs tremble against his and he breathes out a quiet, airy laugh, leaning in and kissing Ryan on the cheek, the side of his mouth, his chin.

Reaching between them, Ryan’s hand still holstered to Shane’s chest, Shane takes hold of both their cocks and Ryan hisses in relief, his head falling back. He curses through his teeth and Shane takes this as permission to move his hands, sliding their slick cocks together with his hand, twisting his wrist when he reaches their heads.

“F-Fuck, Shane, please…,” Ryan begs, his voice higher than usual. His grip on Shane’s chest is even tighter, digging his nails into the skin around his nipple, and Shane silently thinks to himself what an odd mark he will have there; a ring of crescent moon finger nail bites.

Shane kisses at Ryan’s neck, switching betweening biting, licking, sucking without any pattern or reason, his mind a blank slate. His free hand takes up place on the small of Ryan’s back, tracing up and down his spine, taking note of the muscles that are sculpted there, keying a mental reminder to worship Ryan’s body with his mouth later.

Ryan is bucking his hips in blind desperation. “ _Please_ ,” he repeats.

Shane knows his pace isn’t fast enough. It’s barely enough for himself.

But of course he has to tease.

Seeing Ryan like this, a sweaty, pleading mess is all he ever wants.

“Please what, sweetheart?” Shane asks, his hand gliding up to the back of Ryan’s head, cupping his hair, and pulling him closer so their noses touch.

Shane twists his wrist and Ryan’s breathing hitches, his eyes half-lidded but open and out of focus, a twisted, almost-pained smile on his slack-jawed mouth. “M-More,” is all he manages out.

“If you’re not careful,” Shane warns between sloppy, misplaced kisses, “you’re going to make a mess of my fishnets.”

“N-N-Not helping…!”

Shane bobs his fist faster, adding a bit more pressure to his hold, both their leaking cockheads popping in and out of the top of his hand, a sheen of precum coating his fingers. He’s getting close to the edge, and by the look on Ryan’s face, his boyfriend is almost there, too.

“R-Ryan…,” he groans, digging his nails into the back of Ryan’s head.

Ryan sputters something, maybe a swear, and squeezes harder on Shane’s chest, a quick, small pain. He’s drawn blood.

Going taut, his thighs tensed and pinning Shane to the bed with his knees, Ryan cums; long, thick ropes that shoot up his chest, onto Shane’s thighs, parts of his skirt. He cries Shane’s name as if the only word he knows, his chest heaving, and then Shane is cumming, too, onto his stomach, his skirt, Ryan’s cock, catching Ryan’s mouth in an uncoordinated, tongue-heavy kiss.

They both sit there a moment, breathing in each others breaths in the blissed haze.

“S-So. About the sports bra…,” Shane starts.

**Author's Note:**

> finally got this done !! i lov putting shane in a skirt !!
> 
> if u liked this or wanna see more like this pls leave kudos and maybe a comment !!
> 
> thank u so much for your patience and support!!!


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